A Better Man
by Jess Maximoff
Summary: Leonard Snart's memories were wiped, but Ray stayed behind to make sure they don't come back. And hopefully get to know the cold themed criminal much better. Coldatom story.
1. Chapter 1

"No, I mean better."

Ray could hear Mick's gruff voice from just beyond the warehouse door where he was hiding and waiting. The familiar sound of his new tech being put to work let's him know that it's done. Leonard's memories are gone. Mick appears at his side only moments later with a grim expression on his already grim features.

"You sure about this, Haircut?"

"He has an eidetic memory. If someone can beat my tech its him. We don't want remnants of events sticking around. He needs to get on the ship with us. The team wouldn't be the same without him." Ray recited the answer he's been giving everyone when asked about his decision to stay in 2014 playing henchman to Captain Cold.

Mick patted Ray on the shoulder, a rare physical gesture, obviously strategic. "Which is the bullshit you fed the team. What's your angle?"

Unable to resist looking at Mick when the pyromaniac initiated contact, Ray was the cause of his own undoing. He was a horrible liar at the best of times, and Mick knew something more was at play here. Had known for a while, just didn't call Ray out on it. Sighing deeply, Ray let his gaze drift over to where Len was standing still looking so uncharacteristically confused. "I just want to know him," he admitted quietly.

Mick shook his head. "He ain't the guy from the Waverider, Haircut. He's cruel and guarded. He'll hate you more than he did the first time."

Ray nodded, "I know."

"Moron, then why you doing this?" demanded Mick.

"Because he changed my fate, Mick," Ray boldly declared. "I was supposed to die. Yes, you intervened, but ultimately it's Len's fate that was cut short so mine could be altered. I just… I just want to do the same for him."

Mick dropped his hand away from Ray's shoulder and nodded. He left him to it then. Confident that if anyone could melt the icy heart of Captain Cold, it was the boy scout.

No one was willing to change fate with the spear, but maybe fate would let them have this one gimme for being so good about that. There had to be a loop hole somewhere, and Ray would find it with the time he bought himself. At Len's side he would find a way to save the man's future.

Taking a deep breath, Ray steadied himself. He pushed off the wall, then entered the room currently occupied by one Leonard Snart. He took another deep breath and ran his hand over his newly shaven head. Ray had drastically changed his look so he could convince anyone who noticed that he only closely resembled Ray Palmer. A buzz cut and a thick coat of stubble, nearing full on beard territory, gave him a rougher look. His already toned body and broad shoulders helped as well. He at least looked the part.

"Heya! Leonard Snart, right? I was told I could find you here. Name's Lucky." Too bad that all goes to shit as soon as he opens his mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

Len leaned back against a desk he'd dragged out of the office weeks ago for that armored truck job. The one that had been completely botched thanks to a new player in town he'd been almost entirely unaware of in any capacity of acceptance when it came to rumors about things called "the Streak". The impossible… made flesh.

This place was feeling… off to him today. He never put much stock in feelings of deja vu. Mostly because his mind never forgot, and so he simply knew whether he'd been somewhere or met someone before. But right now he completely understood why so many people found it so frustrating. His whole being felt taut. Pulled in an unidentifiable direction, and he did not like it.

He was alone in the warehouse at first. He shot a member of his crew here yesterday, knowing he would lose the others and hadn't cared in the least. He had a reputation to maintain in the criminal underworld, or he'll have just any fool coming to his calls for grunts who can follow orders. Besides! He's discovered he had bigger fish to fry. In the form of the very same Khandaq Diamond going on display at the local museum now that "Streak" had botched the truck heist. He was going to need a way to defeat this fast moving Do Gooder if he was ever going to get his hands on his current goal.

He wanted that chunk of ice.

That thought carried far more weight inside of him than he understood, souring his mood even further. His right hand twitched, fingers folded into his palm by his right thigh as if he was reaching for something that should be there but isn't, and he found his frustration mounting. He shook his hand out after a millisecond post the involuntary response to thoughts of the Streak as his enemy. Brow furrowed, he rubbed his wrist when a voice broke his concentration on his sense of loss. As if he were missing some vital part of himself somehow. He's perfectly whole, but he can't shake the feeling that he's lost something… something beyond his scope of comprehension of the moment. He hated feeling like this, but he pushed aside his irritation. His frustration he lets bleed off his aura in waves. He was all out of patience after losing his crew yesterday.

"Heya! Leonard Snart, right? I was told I could find you here. Name's Lucky."

The man was tall, broad shouldered and built like a mixed martial artist. Heavy enough to take on a middleweight wrestler. Maybe even a heavyweight if he's skilled. He looks intimidating… except for the softness around his eyes, and the fact that he sounded like a friendly neighbor rather than any kind of criminal.

"Lucky, hm?" He drawled and folded his arms against his chest, low and relaxed, as he increased his lounging position against his work bench desk. He is the king of his castle and he will not tolerate unwanted intruders. "I have a fairly good idea of who you've spoken too… Shall I assume then that you are looking to join my new crew despite recent… unfortunate events?"

"Unfortunate events" was one way to put it, and yes, Ray was prepared. How well that preparation held up under pressure was a whole other thing. He'd been warned by Mick, and then Sara, and then by Stein of the kind of man he was attempting to help. It seemed kind of cruel to have such a negative outlook on a man who ultimately dies for them all, but Ray understood.

They warned him because of what happened to Amaya, because they don't want it to happen to him. Liabilities get disposed of by this current Cold. This was the time in which he earned his mantel, and Ray wasn't allowed to stop him. Some deaths shape not only Len, but Barry as well. Ray had been warned and believed himself mentally prepared for this, but Len's words of introduction crack his resolve.

Len had openings in his crew because he killed one of his previous crew members. It was cut and dry. Calculated and cold. Ray swallowed down the bile rising up into his mouth. No point in getting cold feet now, he wanted to bare witness to the man Leonard Snart will become. All his broken pieces included. Rubbing his sweaty palms onto his thighs, he held out his hand. Ray knew it was going to be rejected, but it's a sign of respect and he can't shake all his habits.

"I heard, not from whoever your thinking of though. Just heard… But that's besides the point. I was looking for you because you're you." Ray was not getting anywhere fast, but still he kept going. "No, well, yes… what I mean is, I'm a tech specialist, support. I want to be part of a team that utilizes my abilities, but in order for that to happen I need a leader who isn't a muscle head."

That's interesting. "What makes you think I need a tech expert, Lucky? Or that I actually will build another crew after… terminating the last one? It's bold of you… to just walk into the bear's den like this…"

Len stared Lucky down, sizing him up, measuring his mettle. "And if I wanted a practical interview? A… demonstration of your technical prowess of sorts? Are you prepared to fail knowing that you became a liability the moment you walked through that door?"

Ray laughed because maybe he was a little giddy from getting to actually talk to Leonard. The entire time he'd been with the Legion, it was only fire fights and one liners. Eobard was obviously careful to keep Len from the team. He also maybe laughed because showing off was something he could do. Taking a reckless step foreword, Ray replied with two fingers moving in a sign for running in front of his face.

"The streak," said Ray, confidently despite feeling a little silly for saying it like this, "is why you're looking for a new crew. The rest of the criminals are running scared but you, you aren't that timid." He sugar coated his words with compliments, stroking the illustrious ego of Captain Cold. He readied his little miniature bomb in his hand, showed off the little throwing star to Snart before he tossed it towards a cargo box. With a blue flash the box shrunk down small enough to fit into the palm of one's hand.

Ray leaned down, picked it up, and tossed it towards Len. "I only have one stipulation for my continued loyalty and services. I'm purely support. I tinker with the tech, but I never, NEVER set foot in a bank, vault, or armored car." His words gruff and harsher than he would normally phrase things thanks to Sara and Mick practically writing this bit out in script format.

Len caught the tossed container with deft efficiency, and then opens his hand to study the oddly light rectangle of metal. "Cool under pressure. A trait I admire."

He lifted the shrunken container and then tossed it back to Lucky. "Let's take better care of our potential assets and targets though, shall we? That's going to be a mess in there… if you can return it to its normal size again, that is."

He's got this… itch at the back of his mind. It was triggering his sense of knowing, but that usually flawless recall is stymied and Len is quickly becoming irritable with frustration. "How do I know you're not a plant? How do you plan to earn enough of my trust that I don't send you straight to the coroner?"

Ray set the container down on the ground, an appropriate distance away from them. "The affects wear off after a time limit, which currently carries. You can't sustain this amount of atom minimization without constant power output. Depending on the materials, it can be as quick as a minute or as long as a day. It's still a prototype, so there are some bugs. Not ready for heists yet." His explanation was said mostly to his watch as he counted down. It took another thirty seconds, but than the crate returned to its original size.

Ray looked up and right at Len, grining like a maniac, obviously proud of himself and wanted Len to praise him again. That earlier remark about "cool under pressure" was hard to ignore. Both because of the preemptive cold pun and because it was spinning Ray in a positive light, which Len would never have done before. He should have pretended to be a bad guy sooner if it would have gotten Len to warm up to him so quickly.

Though that balloon was popped rather quickly when Len asked for proof of loyalty, or Ray would end up a cold dead slab. Scratching at his chin, Ray considered Leonard carefully before he answered, "You don't." It was a weird response to settle on and he quickly followed it up with a stream of words in a way of explanation. "What I mean is, nothing I can say will convince you. I mean, trust happens over time and shared experiences. You don't know me, there is no reason to trust me. I could suggest somethings I could do to earn your trust, but you could rationalize that I planned those things with accomplishing them in my favor just to earn your trust. So, really… there is nothing I can do but work for you and convince you I'm trust worthy. You can test me if you like, but I still feel like you won't be satisfied with that."

Leonard was quiet for a moment, face blank. His cold blue eyes, however, looked like they were searching for something. Ray kept his cool on the outside, but inside, the scientist was shaking. Had he said the wrong thing? Was he going to get iced?

After what felt like an eternity, the man who would soon be the cold themed criminal spoke. "Mm, alright. Fair enough. You're tech savvy. I've heard rumors that some things were taken from STAR Labs and they're being fenced to the highest bidder. I meet the… "man of business" in two hours. You'll come with me. Make sure there isn't anything else of value besides the two pieces I'm already taking. Got it?"

That sense of knowing, like he should be familiar of this whole scene… but… that something was still… off.

Ray nodded, excited to be included so quickly, and on an excursion he had heard about prior. Made preparing his mind for the impending murder easier. The man stole the guns because of financial problems, and Barry later took care of his family so it wasn't all bad. Ray still felt a lump of guilt forming in his gut, but he pushed it aside in favor of winning Len's trust. "I can do that. What kind of tech are you already interested in? And from STAR Labs too." Ray whistled. "That's some fancy stuff. Cutting edge even."

"You'll see soon enough. In the meantime, I've ordered us something to eat. The pizza delivery boy will be here soon. See that he's taken care of. I have some research to attend."

Len straightened and swung around the working side of the desk, settling in the chair and turned on his laptop. He's irritated with this sense of wrongness and he couldn't seem to shake it. He wondered if it might be that he found Lucky attractive, and that it's been far too long since he's gotten laid… But deemed that ridiculous. He's not that hard pressed yet.

Ray nodded, turned to go keep a look out for the delivery boy but hesitated. He looked back at Leonard over his shoulder and cleared his throat to get the man's attention. "You can trust me, Len. I know that doesn't carry weight but-" Cutting himself off, Ray shook his head. His eyes were a little sad when he turned back to the entrance of the warehouse. Sighing deeply, he pushed himself to walk away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello readers****! First, I want to say thank you to Atarya QueenofEgypt, Summer, TK, Guest, Kim, and Jon for leaving wonderful reviews. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story.**

**Second, as you read this chapter, and possibly other chapters of this story in the future, you might notice things. Like events happening out of order, or slightly different, or what not. Well, I have an answer to that. Whatever changes you read are all Barry Allen's fault. Blame him and Flashpoint.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Each step felt like he was sinking deeper in mud, pulling him down. Ray, if anything, could persevere, so he ignored his heavy emotions in favor of playing his part. That little slip up couldn't happen again. This needed to be organic. He didn't want to trigger Len's sharp mind and eidetic memory. Auto pilot took over, as it often did when Ray was working out a complex problem. He payed for the pizza and returned to the room Len was in, a bit of a daze floating over his head like a cloud.

Len had been about to bristle and growl at Lucky that they weren't so well acquainted yet that he should be calling him by his first name, but something in that sad, sad expression stopped him. He felt that sense of not knowing something he should know spike and lets the incident go in favor of searching for answers on the internet. Lucky returned looking dazed. "Let me guess. She was beautiful and you're in need of a little… alone time."

Ray startled, "Wah?!" He blushed at the implications behind Len's words, and stammered through a few more attempts at "What?" before he managed, "No uh, just thinking out a problem I haven't solved yet." Coming up to the desk, he laid the pizza between them, turned toward Len so he could grab his first. Ray took this moment to cool off his cheeks, hoping his beard mostly covered his blush. He leaned on the desk and grabbed himself a slice to munch on.

"So, have you had a chance to catch The Hobbit yet?" Ray asked, reaching for anything to talk about to fill the silence. He avoided personal questions or questions that could appear as digging for information, which left little to be desired in conversation starters.

Len went stone silent, swallowed his bite of pizza, and then stood up, setting his bitten slice on a napkin on the desk. "Excuse me."

And then he disappeared down the hall that was behind him. He locked himself in the bathroom and paced. Now wasn't the time to let that ice cold need for revenge rise to the surface. Lisa had been dead for a long time… he'll never rest until Lewis Snart is rotting in Hell. But… he isn't about to tell any of that to Lucky.

Ray startled back up into a standing position, almost dropping his slice of pizza as he nodded to Len's words. He watched the man stalk out, worry etched into every line of his face. Ray was missing something. He closed his eyes and placed greasy fingers on the bridge of his nose. He'd picked The Hobbit because it came out around this time in 2014. What significances did that movie hold for Len? Outside of being a closet nerd, there was no reason for such an uncharacteristic reaction to mention of that movie.

Pursing his lips, he tried to go through all the little facts he knew about Len. The things he discovered by overhearing conversations he wasn't supposed to, and then the stories Mick told to him after Leonard… well after. Nothing was clicking which just cemented his growing concern he was missing something important. How to discover what it might be was going to be hard.

After going around in circles, Ray gave up. Living alongside Len was the only way to find answers, so he would just have to stick it out. He went back to eating his pizza while he waited on Len to return.

Len returned composed and cool and settled in his chair. He resumed his research - now on the growing numbers of reports on the Streak - and started on his pizza slice again. Absently he asked, "What can you tell me about the Streak, Lucky?"

Wasn't that a question and a half. Ray was tempted to start off with correcting the name because 'The Streak' is lame, but he held back. What can Ray say? Gnawing on his pizza slice he considered his options. Would providing no insight make him useless and then disposable? Was this a test from Len or just an inquiry? Ray honestly didn't know and no amount of studying Len's face was giving him answers.

The script was used up, now he needed to stick around all by himself. He was clever, a genius even. He could do this. Hopefully. "Uh… he's fast?" Ray's answer was no where near as confident as it needed to be. Throwing caution to the wind he added, "Probably weak to the cold."

Len's brow raised. "My thought exactly. All that lightning generated from heat and friction, the speeds he travels and all molecules slow to a stop at Absolute Zero… so what better way to slow him down than giving him a little… chill?"

Leonard couldn't help but be relieved by the topic change, and to have someone agree with him rather than run away for fear of the consequences of failure.

Ray couldn't hide his eyebrows rising up in surprise. He'd known that Leonard learned that gun inside and out after he got it, but his current reasoning suggested an understanding of science beyond what the thief ever let on before. His surprise almost caused him to miss the pun but he doesn't. Ray covered his chuckle with a cough, hand coming up to cover his smile.

"Chill, right…" he agreed, hiding behind the pizza box because he couldn't get his amusement under control. He picked a piece of pizza up and shoved it in his mouth as a last ditch effort. While he chewed he asked, "You've studied physics?"

"I have nothing else to do when I manage to find myself in lock up… and I never perform a heist without knowing everything I'm dealing with… and every escape route. I've robbed top floor pent houses and never had those thefts pinned on me. It's nice to be… underestimated."

Len's smirk was cocky as he finished another piece of pizza. He's pleased that Lucky found his puns humorous. So many people are just… too stupid.

Humming thoughtfully he finished off his pizza and began licking his fingers clean. The image of Len behind bars, studying science books, brought a slight up turn to the corners of his lips. "I guess," Ray conceded to Len's underestimated comment. He couldn't really relate though. To be underestimated felt the same as not leaving a lasting impact, which he was really not a fan of.

He wanted his time, accomplishments to have meaning. When you do things that matter you aren't underestimated, but held in high regard. Ray wanted to matter too much. Didn't Len? "What other subjects have you studied?" Ray changed gears, trying to pry more about Len out of him while still keeping a respectful distance.

Leonard lifted a shoulder. "I speak several different languages. Among them are Russian, Italian, Sindarin and Vulcan. I'm a fair mathematician. But mostly I've studied people. Like right now… you're fishing. I just don't know for what."

Len shrugged again and hummed as he finished off his third and last piece. "I like you. You're earnest. Don't push your luck."

Being read and being honest were apparently different things because Ray felt a little raw at being seen through when he was trying to hold back. If Len liked that he was earnest than he'd stick with that. Creating a persona to different from his own personality would be hard to maintain for a long period of time.

"I was fishing," admitted Ray. "For more about you. Not really a particular detail, just trying to get to know the man behind some of the stories I've heard." Every word one hundred percent the truth. It felt good not to hold back, to not have to hide behind half truths and half lies. "Kohlinar!" exclaimed Ray with a snap of his fingers. "You totally do that, don't you? Okay, not that extreme, but you try to mute your emotions. That's what earlier was about… and okay, uh you know when something just kinda clicks. An answer to a problem and it's like eureka. You just… you mentioned Vulcan and then my mind went Spock, and you're so cool and collected, but earlier when you excused… I'm sorry, I should really stop talking. Shouldn't we be going now? I'll just shut up now. Don't get mad."

It wasn't like he didn't know this about Len before, but it just felt like his understanding over what that practice truly was to the thief just expanded. It was to suppress powerful overwhelming emotions.

Len's expression was neutral for a long moment. He's never been pegged so accurately in his life. Not even by Lisa when she had been alive. He stood and was about to say something scathing when his mental clock had him look at his watch. "We need to go. Come on. The meeting place is across town and we have to account for traffic."

If he didn't acknowledge Lucky's eerily accurate insight, then perhaps he'd assume he's off base and leave it be without Len having to lie to his newest crew member.

Ray blew out a long breath he'd been holding, relieved that he was still invited. He was totally okay with bypassing his outburst. Didn't make it any less true, but he could let Leonard believe he's dismissed Ray's observation. "Okay sure," he replied as he bounced on his toes, waiting for Len to lead the way.

If only he hadn't done that… They could be talking Star Trek right now instead of awkward silence. It made Ray want to twitch. Inside the car he chewed his lip and drummed his fingers anxiously.

Len drove like a calculated law abiding citizen. He even waited to start the car until they were both buckled in. It was a few moments of silence in when he couldn't hold back the question any longer. "Which series?" he asked, cool and calm, feigning indifference.

Ray was so grateful Len was a big enough nerd that he couldn't resist a chance to talk to someone with similar interests. The accompanying smile lit up Ray's face with an obnoxious amount of happiness. He hummed and hahs for a moment before he dropped his answer with a 'duh, isn't it obvious' inflection to his words. "Obviously, the original. I mean, it's what started all of it."

Leonard nodded, approval heavy in his expression. "And the movies?"

He normally didn't want to get to know his crewmen. But there is just something about this man that puts Len at ease. A dangerous situation that he'd have to be more wary of from here forward.

"The Wrath of Khan," answered Ray easily, but then added when his brain connected the dates to the new movies, "I'm also excited for the next movie 'Into Darkness' because the rumors are all talking about them revisiting that story line." Which they do revisit and it was glorious. Ray kind of wanted to tell Len all about it, but bit his tongue, letting the thief speculate instead.

"I haven't had much time to follow the movie rumor mill. If they revisit Khan, I'm sure they'll do the storyline justice." Len pulled them into the warehouse parking lot. "Let me do the talking. Speak up if you notice anything pertinent."

Ray nodded. He bit his tongue again when the thought of asking Len to go see it with him popped into his head. A similar inquiry about movies was what caused the storm of emotions earlier and Ray didn't want to unbalance him when they were about to go do something so pivotal. He also had to stop his hand from miming, locking his mouth closed because Lucky tech criminal specialist would not do that.

"Will do, boss," he said instead, which was a sufficient alternative. Calling Len "boss" made him chuckle internally, but it also lets his intent known. He planned on listening. He would be on his best behavior. Following Len into the warehouse, Ray kept his word and didn't speak up. The guns Len looked at, he already knows well and he nodded approvingly when looking them over from behind Len's shoulder.

It was actually interesting to see the guns in their original state, being able to compare to the upgrades he knew exist. Part of Ray wondered how many of those upgrades Len did himself. He'd have to be careful not to take over the process in fear of a predestination paradox. He'd do the upgrades because he saw the gun already with the upgrades, meaning the upgrades would have no proper beginning.

The idea of teaching Len the science and know how to upgrade his own gun seem like the best way to avoid that. How to offer that without Len outright rejecting it would be the trick though.

Len was an observant man and he picked up on Lucky's approval of the tech. Len wasted no time in icing the dealer. He grinned, pleased by the results. "Bring the rest. I have a fence already lined up."

Len picked up the cases for the heat and cold guns once he had tucked away the cold gun and goggles. He headed back to the car and tucked the cases behind his seat. Then he popped the trunk expecting Lucky to be right behind him.

Ray's mouth fell open in horror over how quickly Len made the decision to kill the man and take all the things. Though it wasn't actually quick because Len was prepared for the results of icing the man. It made Ray queasy. He stayed behind staring at the iced statue, holding the bile rising in his stomach down with will power alone. Wiping unshed tears from his eyes, he did as he was told; collected all the gear of any value and scurried after Len.

His heart was heavy with the weight of a life being taken from right in front of him. He could have done something. Knew it was coming and could have prevented it in some way. He hadn't felt this helpless since Anna. A new wave of nausea washed over him when he made it back to Len's car. Carefully, he dumped the stuff into the trunk, his forehead beading with sweat as a clammy sickly feeling took him. He couldn't throw up, though. He's Lucky. This was his normal. He would have to get used to this. There was more to come.

Those thoughts did little to settle his stomach. He looked at Leonard and offered a weak smile, silently saying, 'Job's done.' Once the message was relayed, he slid back into the car and covered his face with his hands, trying desperately not to wear his heart on his sleeve and failing miserably.

Len got them on the road. The car was quiet while Len maneuvered them through Central City traffic. He's torn. On one hand, something was definitely off here. On the other, he could see why Lucky didn't like to be in the front row.

"I won't be needing you in the field after this. You've proven valuable… and given good reason as to why you don't want to be on the front lines. Not everyone has the stomach for what needs to be done."

"Does it, though?" Ray found himself saying despite himself. He looked over at Len, his eyes pleading the shadow to let the real deal to shine through. For the Len Ray knew to be the one he was dealing with. Swallowing down such shallow feelings, he closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, never mind, you're right. I just don't have the stomach, but I like the freedom to tinker and create what I want without board members and grants hanging over my head. So here I am." It was a lie seated in things Ray honestly didn't like about being an inventor in the 21st century.

He rubbed his hands over his face and then through his hair, collecting himself. Licking his lips he took a breath, carefully controlling the things about to come out of his mouth. "I trust you to do what's necessary and only that. Like I said before, I did my research and you aren't one for needless casualties. I … we might not be on the right side of the law, but that doesn't make us bad people either."

"How incredibly progressive of you, Lucky. My partner's going to disagree with you there. My advice? Don't argue with him. He's got a hot temper. We've been apart for a bit so he could cool down… but! If for some reason cold isn't the answer… Mick will take the opportunity to overheat his engines. With pleasure. The Streak won't be fouling up any more of my heists. One way or another."

Len turned them toward a red light district and parked in the lot of a pay by the hour motel. He got out of the car and then leaned back in. "Don't speak and get in the back seat."

Ray nodded, interested in Len's perspective of Mick. It was all helpful advice because the Mick that was his friend on the Waverider had been through a lot. Like Time Masters kidnapping and brainwashing him. Then getting unbrainwashed. And Len dying. A lot a lot. Those kind of experiences change a man and Ray hoped that the Mick Rory he knows was still in there now though. It would always be easier for Ray to get along with Mick because like Ray, he wore his heart on his sleeve. Len, despite his draw, was a puzzle to Ray, more often than not.

He hoped to solve some of the man through this ordeal though. "Okay, good to know about your friend. I'll keep out of his way," commented Ray as he slid out of the front seat and into the back. He still wasn't feeling one hundred percent, but there was nothing he could do about that. This was his life he kept reminding himself because he was worried if he didn't he'd forget and start preaching at Len. Which would do him absolutely no good. When Len is gone, Ray played with the radio, leaning up into the front seats awkwardly.

He was just bored and trying to keep busy so his mind would stop replaying when Len iced that man. It wasn't the first time he'd seen someone die, and that man wasn't the nicest of men, but even still the heartless killing over business was what got to Ray. What shifted Len's axis so he decided not to do such things? Where he decides to give his life for his team and all of time.

The conversation with Mick went exactly as he'd planned and before long, Len and Mick came out of a motel room each holding their respective gun cases. Mick slid into the passenger seat and twisted, looking Ray over for a moment. He asked, "Who's this?" once Len had settled his gun in the foot well behind his seat and settled himself in the driver's seat.

"Mick, Lucky. Lucky, Mick. He's a tech expert. Hates the scene, loves unauthorized, unmoderated tech projects. He seems useful."

Mick grunted and settled back. "He looks like a cross between one o'those punk hipsters and some pretty boy billionaire."

"Now Mick. Where are your manners?" chastened Len as he drove them back to the safehouse.

Ray froze, mouth open, gawked at Mick. His mind a little broken at the all too observant and accurate assessment. He eventually shook the shock away and held out his hand awkwardly from the backseat. "And you seem like there is more to you than meets the eye. Looking forward to working with you." It was a simple statement, but one that Ray knew beyond a doubt is true. Mick was more than a muscle brained, fire obsessed, broken individual. He was clever, resourceful, and one day Ray's friend.

Mick looked back at him again, looked down at his hand and then shook it once briefly. "Yeah, yeah."

Leonard chuckled once, just a soft huff, and then said baldly, "I sleep in the corner office on the second floor. There are five other offices to choose from. Once I close my door, leave me alone outside of emergencies. Now, I expect to see both of you at ten AM sharp. I have a plan for testing what we're dealing with. Understood?"

Ray nodded, relieved on two levels. One, Mick shook his hand, which did not happen the first time they met. The other was Len was putting him up. Ray wasn't certain if the arrangement was long term, but for tonight at least he didn't have to figure something out. His plan to stay at Len's side wasn't all that well thought out beyond becoming a member of his crew.

He picked the office that was between where Len and Mick settled. He would have preferred to be closer to Len, but thought the nearness would raise suspicion. He didn't really sleep that night, haunted by an icy face he didn't save. How did Len bare such burdens so effortlessly? Do you really get used to it as he's suggested before? Ray doubted it.


End file.
